


come hang (let’s go out with a bang)

by suzukiblu



Category: Fantastic Four, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Courting Rituals, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Darcy Lewis can't lose, F/M, Fantasy Gender Roles, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Omega Darcy Lewis, Omega Johnny Storm, Omega/Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: “Was there traffic?” Jane asks.“I have a date with Johnny Storm,” Darcy says.“What?” Jane says.“Oh, and I almost died again,” Darcy says, pulling out Jane’s papers for her. “But that’s kind of secondary.”“What?!”
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Johnny Storm
Comments: 13
Kudos: 333





	come hang (let’s go out with a bang)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zephrbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/gifts).



> Written for Zephrbabe, who wanted a different take on omega!Darcy from me, and also courting gifts. I decided to go nice and queer with it and picked a ship that I have made a couple nods to in the past but never actually dedicated a full fic to. 
> 
> Which Fantastic Four canon is this? That is up to you, my friend. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Darcy has about thirty-five celebrity crushes, being who she is as a person, but Johnny Storm is officially the only one of them who’s directly saved her life. Some of the others probably have _in_ directly, given that some of the others are also literal superheroes, but not in the “literally sweeping her off her feet” sense. 

“Jesus,” she says, clutching at Johnny Storm's very nice chest as they land on the broken-up street in the middle of a whole mess of flames, then snatching her hand back because she’s really not trying to feel him up here. But _Jesus_. 

“Gee, look who got distracted saving the omega while everybody else did the work,” Ben Grimm says dubiously, raising an eyebrow at them. Johnny Storm flashes him a completely shameless grin, then lets Darcy down now that he’s not half on fire or in midair anymore. She barely resists the urge to clutch at him again, but in her defense her legs are slightly jelly-like at the moment. 

“Jesus,” she says again, patting herself down. She’s not even singed. 

So, it turns out Johnny Storm’s pheromones smell a little bit like toasted marshmallows. They are . . . very nice. Darcy usually prefers betas or alphas over other omegas, but “usually” isn’t “always” and Johnny Storm is also a very gorgeous omega. Like . . . _very_ gorgeous. Could practically stand up to Thor gorgeous, which is saying something. 

“All good?” Johnny Storm asks, grinning down at her. She mentioned the gorgeous thing, right? 

“Pretty sure,” she says, checking her purse. Okay, also unsinged. Also, still containing the very important papers she was on her way to Jane’s Avengers Tower lab with. Cool. “Yeah, okay, I’m good. You?” 

He laughs, like he thinks the question’s funny or maybe like people just don’t usually ask. They probably don’t, come to think of it. 

“I’m great, babe,” he says. “Any time I get to save a pretty omega is fine by me.” 

“I assume you get to do that a lot, given the lifestyle,” Darcy says. She’s pretty sure he’s either bi or pan, but she suddenly _really_ wants to double-check his dating history. That would be weird and creepy, though, so she’s not gonna. 

Really. 

Even _if_ it would only take a very simple googling. 

“Got me!” Johnny Storm says with another laugh, holding his hands up. Darcy is extremely distracted by him, honestly—seriously, _gorgeous_ —but not distracted enough not to notice the police cars pulling up. 

“Oh, ugh,” she says, making a face. She’s going to have to give a statement or something, isn’t she. She _hates_ giving statements. They are extremely boring and also the cops and/or SHIELD agents are usually trying to blame her for doing something totally unavoidable during them. 

“Problem?” Johnny Storm asks. 

“I hate giving statements. They are extremely boring and also the cops and/or SHIELD agents are usually trying to blame me for doing something totally unavoidable during them,” Darcy says, because she has absolutely no filter whatsoever. 

“Oh, well, that’s an easy fix,” Johnny Storm says with a smirk, and then sweeps her right off her feet again and bursts into flames. 

“Oh!” Darcy exclaims in surprise, clutching at her purse, and he tears off into the sky. He’s really fast. 

_Really_ fast. 

Wow. 

“Uptown or downtown?” he asks. 

“Avengers Tower, actually, if you don’t mind,” Darcy says. “My boss works there and I’m kinda already late, what with the whole supervillain bank robbery thing. Good job on that, by the way. Also thanks for saving me from getting shot. I really appreciate the saving me from getting shot.” 

“No problem,” Johnny Storm says. “Your boss works at Avengers Tower?” 

“Yeah,” Darcy says, resisting the urge to put her arms around his neck. Usually she doesn’t tell people she’s just met that, since why the hell would they believe her, but Johnny Storm _is_ a superhero and all. “She’s Jane Foster. You know, the astrophysicist?” 

“You mean _Thor’s_ alpha?” Johnny Storm says, his eyebrows raising. 

“Yeah,” Darcy says again. “Not that it’s really the same thing for him, Asgardians actually don’t _do_ secondary genders, weirdly, they’re basically all betas if you don’t count the total lack of calming pheromones, but actually you probably already know that so I don’t know why I’m telling you. I may be rambling. I ramble, it’s a thing.” 

“You did almost just die,” Johnny Storm says. 

“No, I’m really just like this,” Darcy replies honestly, shaking her head. He laughs again. She could definitely get used to making him do that. “You’re super hot, by the way.” 

“I could turn the temperature down but we’d fall out of the sky and die,” he says. 

“I meant, like, visually,” Darcy says. “I may have some brain-to-mouth problems.” 

“Well, I never turn down a compliment,” he says, flashing her a grin. 

“Why would you?” Darcy says, debating actually hitting on him. It probably happens to him all the time, though, and she’s got maybe thirty to sixty seconds before they get to the tower, the rate they’re going. It doesn’t give an omega much time to work with. 

Then again: she is who she is as a person. 

“So, like, what are you doing tonight?” she asks. 

“Visiting the moon,” Johnny Storm replies like that’s a perfectly normal answer, which she guesses it is for him. “But tomorrow night I’m free.” 

“That’s very interesting information,” she says. “Hey, guess what, so am I.” 

“Really,” he says, grin widening. “Tell me all about it.” 

Anyway so that’s how Darcy ends up on the roof of Avengers Tower programming a date with Johnny Storm into her calendar and trying to figure out how to actually get inside. She ends up having to call somebody because it turns out the roof access is locked, go figure, but whatever. She’s got a date with Johnny Storm and she’s only _kind_ of late for work, so really, everything’s coming up Darcy. 

“Was there traffic?” Jane asks. 

“I have a date with Johnny Storm,” Darcy says. 

“What?” Jane says. 

“Oh, and I almost died again,” Darcy says, pulling out Jane’s papers for her. “But that’s kind of secondary.” 

_“What?!”_

Darcy explains. Jane fusses. Then they get to work, because it's not like a crisis or something and they've got shit to do. Almost dying is pretty normal in their lives now. At least, they've done it a lot. 

Anyway, they really do have work to do. 

Darcy puts on her iPod and hums her way through the morning, and only spends about a third of it being weird about Johnny Storm and the fact that she can still smell his sugar-sweet toasted marshmallow pheromones on her sweater. They linger, apparently. 

God, he really does smell delicious. 

"Do you smell that?" Jane asks eventually, pausing in the middle of programming something into her laptop. 

"Depends on what we're smelling," Darcy says. 

"Um . . . sugar?" Jane says. Her sense of smell is not the greatest, for an alpha, or at least not the most refined. Darcy's still surprised it took her this long to notice, though. 

"Probably Johnny Storm’s pheromones," she says, bringing over a stack of notes that need transcribed. "He smells kinda like toasted marshmallows." 

"Huh," Jane says. "I guess that would make sense." 

"It is maybe a _little_ on the nose," Darcy agrees. "Hey, do you want _all_ of these, or . . . ?" 

"Maybe not all," Jane says, eyeing the stack. "So where's he taking you?" 

"Good question," Darcy says. "Technically I asked _him_ out, so I think that one's on me. Where do you think would impress a superhero without breaking my bank?" 

"Don't look at me," Jane says. "Thor thinks everything on this planet is quaint." 

"Valid point," Darcy says. "Maybe pizza. Everybody likes pizza." 

"I don't know if that's going to impress him," Jane says doubtfully. 

"Also a valid point," Darcy says with a shrug. "But also I'm an intern, so there's not much point in setting up an unsustainable standard." 

"True," Jane says. "I hear there's a pretty good pizza place down the block. According to Tony, anyway." 

"Can Tony Stark's palate be trusted?" Darcy asks skeptically. There are a lot of things about Tony Stark that can't be trusted, in her experience. 

"Probably not," Jane says. "But it's going to be hard to find pizza that'll impress a New Yorker." 

"We could maybe just do Chinese," Darcy says. 

“Are you going to get him a courting gift?” Jane says. “If you’re picking the place and all.” 

“That . . . is a good idea,” Darcy says, frowning to herself. “I could bring flowers, I guess? No, flowers would definitely catch on fire. I mean, so would most things I can think of. It’s gonna have to be jewelry.” 

“Definitely not jewelry with a low melting point,” Jane says. 

“Dammit,” Darcy says, making a face. She doesn’t know _melting_ points. “What do you even _get_ for a guy who sets everything on fire?” 

“Candy?” Jane suggests. 

“It’d melt too,” Darcy sighs. 

“Well, he managed not to set _you_ on fire, it’d probably be fine,” Jane says. 

“Okay, true,” Darcy says. “I’m probably just being paranoid. He’s very attractive. I’m definitely not on my game here. He probably won’t even _need_ to set anything on fire.” 

“I mean, hopefully?” Jane says. “Usually him needing to set something on fire would imply, you know, supervillains or something.” 

“Yeah, that would be a mood-killer,” Darcy says. 

Anyway, they make it through the rest of the workday okay. Darcy spends most of her lunch break looking at restaurants, mostly because going to one of her usual haunts just feels like not trying hard enough, and eventually picks out a likely-looking place and then spends the rest of lunch looking for a good candy shop to hit up. She’s thinking chocolates. Chocolates seem like a good idea. 

Also, chocolate probably smells _delicious_ with Johnny Storm. 

Like, seriously. Delicious. 

Darcy goes to the candy shop after work and buys a box of assorted chocolates, because she figures “assorted” means he’ll have to like _something_ and also so she won’t have to do it at the last minute, and then takes it home and leaves it in the fridge. She goes through her closet to find a good date outfit and sets it aside for tomorrow, and then she tries to figure out just what the hell she thinks she’s going to talk to a superhero spaceship pilot and pyrokinetic daredevil about over dinner, anyway. She might take some notes. 

Look, never let it be said that Darcy Lewis didn’t know how to come to a date prepared. 

She makes herself get a good night’s sleep, which is probably the hardest part of the whole preparation process, and in the morning she wakes up and goes to work and _definitely_ doesn’t spend the whole day distracted. Definitely. 

Okay, she’s distracted, she admits to herself the third time she has to re-enter the same equation. 

Darcy manages to focus, eventually, and gets at least _some_ work done. Jane doesn’t seem bothered by her results, so she’s got that, at least. As long as she hasn’t fucked up anything important in the equations, she figures she’s good. 

. . . she should probably double-check those equations, though. 

The workday drags by, but eventually it does end, and Darcy’s the first one out the door. 

“ByeJaneseeyoutomorrow!” she calls back quickly as she darts out of the lab without waiting for a reply, and takes the stairs just so she won’t have to wait for the elevator. The elevator’s probably faster, but she’s jingling with way too much excess energy to be standing around. 

She goes home, she changes into her date outfit, and she gets out the chocolates and debates picking up some flowers before she heads over to the Baxter Building. She’s got a little time; she might as well use it responsibly. And frontloading her success on this date is definitely the responsible thing to do. So she picks up some flowers at the closest florist’s, then gets a cab and gets going. She’s going to be a little early, probably, but better early than late. 

Anyway, Darcy really does not care if Johnny Storm gets the impression that she’s the eager type. She _is_ , for one thing. She is very much the eager type. 

She is who she is, after all. 

The cab pulls up to the Baxter Building. Darcy gets out. There’s a doorman, which makes sense given who lives here; mercifully Johnny Storm has not forgotten to get her on the visitor list. That would’ve sucked. 

There’s no sign of him in the lobby, so she makes an assumption and takes the elevator up. Normally she’d call, and Johnny Storm _did_ give her his number, but Reed Richards apparently has yet to design a fully fireproof cell phone that can stand up to full Human Torch temperatures, so she’s assuming he still needs a replacement after yesterday. 

Then again, he’s probably used to getting quick replacements for his phone, so who knows? 

The elevator dings, and the door opens. Darcy steps out into the walkway of the penthouse, which is mostly full of _science!!_ and weird machines, which are presumably more science. Darcy looks around. No obvious superheroes are in sight, though she can smell people _somewhere_. 

Hm. 

Well, she’s done harder things than sniff out a delicious-smelling omega in a strange lab. 

Darcy trots across the walkway and down the stairs into the main floor of the penthouse. She has to step around a few machines and assorted bric-a-brac, and it’s probably not the best place to be looking for Johnny Storm, given all the _science!!_ and the total lack of motorcycles and attractive people and tabloid reporters, but it’s a start, at least. 

It occurs to her that she _might_ get photographed tonight, come to think of it. 

Man, she hopes she looks as cute in this outfit as she thinks she does. 

“Hello?” Darcy calls, ducking underneath one of the larger machines and peering around. Still no sign of superheroes. “Anybody here?” 

“Who are you?” a voice says, and Sue Storm abruptly appears in front of her. _Literally_ appears, since “Invisible Woman” is not a joke. Darcy blinks, then tilts her head. Neat. 

“Your brother’s date night,” she says, holding up the flowers. The candy’s in her purse, since it’s a bit less crushable. Sue Storm frowns, then sighs. 

“Of course he told them to let you up instead of calling him down,” she says in exasperation. 

“Yeah, not great security there, but I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Darcy says with a shrug. “Your business and all.” 

“Well, I hope you’re not an alien spy,” Sue Storm says resignedly, then turns around and calls, _“Johnny!”_

“Being a human spy would be okay?” Darcy can’t help but ask. 

“Easier to deal with, at least,” Sue Storm says, which: fair. Johnny Storm appears on the walkway wearing very tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt, and Darcy has to resist the urge to surreptitiously fan herself. Okay, forget her looking cute in this outfit, she has _clearly_ been outdone here. 

“Hey, you’re here!” he says, grinning down at her. 

“Do you usually get stood up by people whose lives you saved?” Darcy asks. Johnny Storm shrugs, then bursts into flames and flies down to land in front of them. Regrettably, his clothes are fireproof. 

“It happens,” he says as the flames clear away. “People get cold feet or get over the adrenaline rush.” 

“Wow, people are dumb,” Darcy says. He laughs. She holds out the flowers, and he gives them a surprised look, like he just noticed them or something. “For you. I also brought chocolate, if you like that kind of thing.” 

“I like chocolate,” Johnny Storm says, taking the flowers and looking them over with a curious expression. It’s not exactly a fancy arrangement, so Darcy hopes it measures up to . . . whatever standards he’s applying to it. 

“Cool,” she says, and pulls out the chocolates to give to him too. 

“What’s with the gifts?” he asks, tilting his head as he accepts them. Darcy blinks at him. 

“Um . . . courting gifts?” she says. “What, is that too forward?” 

“You got me courting gifts?” Johnny Storm says, looking surprised again. Sue Storm eyes him resignedly. 

“You put an omega you didn’t even think would bring you a courting gift on the doormen’s list?” she says. 

“Yes,” he says. 

_“Johnny,”_ she says. 

“Honestly it was my boss’s idea,” Darcy admits. “But you’re very attractive, as you’ve probably noticed. I’m trying to make a good impression.” 

“Hm.” Johnny inspects the flowers again, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Cool.” 

“I’ll get you a vase,” Sue Storm says with another sigh, heading towards the stairs. “Just don’t show her anything Reed wouldn’t want in the papers.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sis,” Johnny Storm says, grinning at her. Sue Storm shoots him a dubious look, then leaves the room. 

“I promise I’m not a spy,” Darcy says. “Or easily bribed.” 

“Eh, wouldn’t be the first time,” Johnny Storm replies dismissively. 

“You have extremely low standards, considering,” Darcy says. 

“Are you secretly a murderous alien?” Johnny Storm asks. “Because as long as you’re not secretly a murderous alien, I’ll deal.” 

“Do you guys have something against aliens?” Darcy asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Mostly just the murderous ones,” Johnny Storm says. 

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Darcy says. “I don’t much like those either.” 

Sue Storm comes back with a vase full of water. Johnny Storm seems unreasonably entertained by putting the flowers in it. Darcy _really_ wonders about his standards for datemates. Or just, like, dating in general. 

At least he probably won’t mind just going for Chinese, she guesses. 

“I was thinking we could go get Chinese food?” she says. "If you're cool with that." 

"I'm cool with that," Johnny Storm says, grinning at her as he sets the vase on a convenient desk. "Got a place in mind?" 

"Technically, yes, but I'm amenable to alternate options," Darcy says. "I really haven't been in New York that long, you probably know better places than me." 

"Naw, let's go to yours," Johnny Storm says, grin widening. "Worst case scenario, we just give it to a homeless guy and go someplace else." 

"Aw, come on, man, I don't wanna inflict mediocre Chinese food on some poor homeless guy," Darcy says, and he laughs. 

"Don't forget Reed needs you tomorrow morning," Sue Storm says. "Don't stay out all night." 

"That depends entirely on the quality of my night," Johnny Storm says, winking at Darcy. She's never actually been flustered by a wink before, but honestly she kind of is. 

"Please don't blame me for trying to keep him out all night," she says feelingly. Sue Storm sighs. 

"He'll be the one complaining about the lack of sleep," she says. 

"I would never," Johnny Storm lies, setting down the chocolates next to the flowers and grinning at Darcy again. "C'mon, let's go. Apparently I have a curfew so we'd better get started." 

"Cool with me," Darcy says, and then yelps in surprise as he sweeps her off her feet and bursts into flames, reflexively throwing her arms around his neck. Fortunately that is not one of the parts of him that are currently on fire. 

_"Johnny,"_ Sue Storm says. He smirks at her. 

"Catch you later, sis," he says, and then they fly up towards an open skylight Darcy had not previously realized was intended to be an exit but probably should have. She's been in Iron Man's penthouse, after all. 

"You really enjoy carrying people around, huh," she observes as they fly out of the skylight and into open air. 

"Oh, absolutely," he says. "As long as they're as cute as you, anyway." 

Darcy pretends not to be flustered. Her success is . . . probably debatable. 

"I bet you say that to all the civilians," she says, and Johnny Storm laughs again. It's apparently really easy to get him to do that, but Darcy is finding the process no less enjoyable. "Don't you worry about paparazzi finding you when you fly around like this?" 

"Not really, no," he replies. "They usually do anyway." 

"Oh, okay," Darcy says. She's put up with more annoying things than that for a date, she figures. Hopefully her hair isn't gonna get too windblown. She's wearing a beanie, so that'll probably help. 

Ugh, they probably have telescopic lenses, don’t they. She _really_ hopes her hair isn’t getting too windblown. 

She pulls out her phone to get directions to the Chinese place she was looking at yesterday, and Johnny follows them easily, although there’s some serious “recalculating” going on when he flies over buildings. 

“I need, like, a superhero setting on this thing,” Darcy says. “I bet Tony Stark could do that.” 

“So could Reed,” Johnny Storm replies with a snicker. 

“Does that mean you _have_ a superhero-setting GPS and you’re just doing this to fuck with me?” Darcy asks. 

“Last one melted,” Johnny Storm says. 

“I guess I should’ve figured that,” Darcy says, and they land on the roof of the Chinese place. “Uh—something wrong with ground level?” 

“Less worried about burning people,” Johnny Storm replies with a shrug. 

“Okay, valid,” Darcy says as she tucks her phone away again. “So . . . how do we get down?” 

“. . . not to give you the straight line of the century, but there’s usually a fire escape,” he says, and she laughs. 

“That’s great,” she says. “Okay, fire escape it is.” 

They take the fire escape. Johnny Storm is super gentlemanly and helps her down, which is nice of him. He’s a lot taller than she is, so it’s definitely easier for him than the reverse would’ve been for her, though it’s a little funny coming from another omega. 

Well, she brought courting gifts, so really, she doesn’t have room to talk about dating cliches. 

They go into the restaurant, which is the most hole-in-the-wall hole-in-the-wall Darcy could find, they order, and then they sit down by the front window because a) most of the other tables are full and b) hopefully being able to see them from the street will keep any potential paparazzi from actually following them into the place, which is apparently an actual concern, geez. Talk about rude, Darcy thinks. 

“How do you even do anything?” she says. 

“I just do whatever,” Johnny Storm replies easily. “I don’t care if somebody sees me.” 

“Even if ‘somebody’ is the entire audience of the National Enquirer?” Darcy asks. 

“Yup,” he says. “If it bugs you, this is probably gonna be our only date.” 

“I once took Thor clothes shopping on Iron Man’s credit card,” Darcy says. “You would not believe how many reporters wanted to know what was going on _there_.” Johnny Storm laughs again, folding his arms on the table. 

“Oh yeah?” he says. “Guess they would, wouldn’t they.” 

“I spent a full week of the news cycle getting accused of dating him behind Jane’s back,” Darcy says. “Never mind that we were in public or anything. Oh, and one place thought I was Tony Stark’s bastard. They made _so_ many dumb Game of Thrones references.” 

“That actually sounds incredibly entertaining, kinda sorry I missed it,” Johnny Storm says, grinning over at her. “You save any of the articles?” 

“My mom scrapbooked the whole thing,” Darcy says wryly. “She thought it was hilarious.” 

“That’s great,” Johnny Storm says, grin widening. “Sooo, now I need to date you long enough to meet your mom.” 

“She would enjoy that way too much,” Darcy says, because her mom loves any excuse to get out the scrapbooks. Especially the weird ones. “Although fair warning, she thinks superhero teams are super weird and still doesn’t understand what I do all day.” 

“I bet I could win her over,” Johnny Storm says. “People tell me I’m a charmer.” 

“That’s because you are,” Darcy says. “My mom likes anybody who wants to see her scrapbooks, though.” 

“Well, I’ll remember that,” Johnny Storm says with a smile, which is of course charming as fuck. 

The waiter brings the food, which temporarily distracts them from talking and also is mercifully pretty damn good, thank God. Darcy didn’t really want to have to go track down another restaurant, that would’ve been a pain. 

Johnny Storm eats about twice what she does, which given her appetite is pretty impressive, but she figures all those muscles and spontaneous combustions and superheroics probably require a lot of fuel. Darcy mostly has to fuel, like, carrying computer parts around and transcribing stuff from Jane’s terrible handwriting. And, well, the occasional heat, but that goes without saying. 

“So what are your feelings on dessert?” she asks as Johnny Storm is systematically destroying the remains of a very large plate of lo mein. 

“Very good,” he says, grinning at her again. “Unless that was a euphemism, in which case, _very_ good.” 

“No, I’m a bit more direct about that kind of thing,” Darcy says, deciding to be that direct and hooking an ankle around one of his underneath the table. He laughs. She’s still not sick of it. “I was thinking, like, ice cream. I’m an ice cream person. As long as it’s not gonna melt on us, anyway.” 

“Ice cream sounds good,” Johnny Storm says, looking amused. “I can avoid the melting thing.” 

“Cool,” Darcy says, smiling a bit stupidly at him. Forgive her, she’s a little smitten. Johnny Storm is definitely the type to get smitten over. 

They finish up and leave. Darcy notices a photographer across the street and sticks her tongue out at him, and Johnny laughs and scoops her up before bursting into flames and flying straight up into the air. He smells even better than before, somehow. She’s not sure how he’s managing it. 

She’s getting used to the flying thing, though. The flying thing is pretty cool. 

They get ice cream and eat it on the roof of the building, sitting on the edge. Darcy got a true monstrosity of cookie dough and caramel and fudge and Johnny Storm picked Mexican chocolate. She hopes her flavor complements her scent half as well as his does. Toasted marshmallow and Mexican chocolate is _mouthwatering_. 

Really. Like, literally. 

“You know, honestly I was expecting a superhero emergency at some point,” she says, licking up a drip of ice cream before it can run down her hand. 

“Don’t jinx us, we aren’t free and clear yet,” Johnny Storm says wryly. 

“True.” Darcy licks her ice cream again; he takes a bite of his. “Still, it’s been like two hours and New York is New York.” 

“Yeah, definitely,” Johnny Storm says. He is _so_ pretty. Darcy wants to put her hands all over him and nuzzle the scent glands in his throat and also make out with him until she makes him late for literally everything he has to do for the rest of his life. 

“I absolutely appreciate it, for the record,” she says instead, kicking her feet lightly. “I’m having a good time. I know it’s not as exciting as the moon or whatever, but, you know.” 

“Well, we could do something a bit more exciting after this,” Johnny Storm says, smiling at her. 

“That sounds super-dangerous,” Darcy says, because she is in fact talking to a superhero daredevil on top of a roof and she’s not dumb enough to forget _that_. “Let’s do it.” 

“Awesome,” he says approvingly. They both finish their ice cream, Johnny Storm offers her a hand, and they step off the roof together and into a freefall. Darcy yelps reflexively, even knowing there’s nothing to yelp over, and Johnny Storm catches fire and they zip up into the air. He does a loop. She throws her arms around his neck with another yelp and holds on tight. It is, in fact, super-dangerous, but also she is all about it. Johnny Storm does a few more loops, laughing, and she can’t help laughing too. It is very, very fun; kind of like a roller-coaster, except with way more fire and adrenaline involved. 

Probably they’re _very_ visible in the sky, especially because it’s starting to get dark out and they are literally on fire, but who cares, really. If Darcy ends up in a tabloid, well, then her mom’s going to have a field day scrapbooking it. 

“Higher?” she suggests with a grin, and Johnny Storm laughs again and spirals up into the air. It’s pretty great. 

He turns off the flames and they go tumbling down, and Darcy shrieks in delighted terror. They narrowly avoid swooping a cab on the street before Johnny Storm reignites and flies them even higher. 

Darcy figures it’s a good time to kiss him, so she kisses him. He kisses back. It is perfect and delicious and he smells _so good_ and tastes just a little bit like chocolate and cayenne. She wraps her arms tighter around his neck and kisses him harder, and they streak across the sky, weaving between towering buildings. It’s actually pretty impressive that he manages not to steer them into a window or wall or something, Darcy thinks. Like, good job there. 

Well, he probably has practice, she figures. 

They fly around the city for a little bit longer, and then Johnny Storm takes them back to the Baxter Building and they fly in through the same skylight they left through. They land on the penthouse walkway, and Darcy tugs him down and kisses him again, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. He kisses back _perfectly_. 

“You are super great at that,” she says feelingly. He grins at her. 

“Which part?” he asks. 

“All of them,” Darcy says firmly, and kisses him one more time. He laughs into it. 

She is never, ever going to get sick of making him do that. 

“So . . . dessert?” he asks. 

“Oh, definitely,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
